


Altering Agreements

by Ineffable_Plans



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley basically thinks practical jokes are proper evil, No Beta, Pre-Relationship, Silly, Which is pretty canon really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 14:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19832017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffable_Plans/pseuds/Ineffable_Plans
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley come to an agreement after all is said and done, but Crowley quickly discovers that it just doesn't work for him. He can't inconvenience humans anymore, but the agreement didn't say anything about Angels.





	Altering Agreements

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of light-hearted fun that went on a bit longer than I planned. There is no blatant shipping in this fic, though I am, at heart, a hardcore A/C shipper. Think of this as pre-relationship if you want.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine. Feel free to point them out though. ;-)

Things are quiet in the days after that celebratory trip to the Ritz. With no one to report to, both Crowley and Aziraphale finally find themselves relaxing in a way they couldn’t for 6000 years. Aziraphale was content to spend his time rotating through meals at his favorite restaurants, reading, and drinking late into the night with his best friend. Crowley wasn’t _not_ enjoying himself, but he never had been the reader Aziraphale was, and even he had a limit on how long he could mindlessly play on his mobile.

That was why, though he wasn’t actually working for Down Below any longer, Crowley found himself missing all those little irritations he had been so good at. He had never been one for getting physically involved in temptations the way other demons were, and to be sure he had no interest in spilling blood. No, for Crowley it was more about showing humans they had a choice. A minor irritation here or there could prompt a whole new set of options that humans didn’t even know they had. And, well, he enjoyed it. Avoiding Armageddon had been nice and all, he rather liked the Earth and the funny humans who occupied it, but it was so _boring_ without a little wiling here and there.

“Angel,” Crowley whined as he draped himself over an unoccupied chair in the bookshop, “I’m so bored.”

“There are plenty of perfectly good books. Pick one,” Aziraphale replied tersely, irritated at the interruption. He had been happily reading for hours and could not understand why Crowley couldn’t do the same.

“Don’t wanna read,” He sounded petulant but did not care. Crowley sat up and leaned towards Aziraphale excitedly. “Maybe I could just go do a bit of tempting. Nothing big, you know. Little things that – “

“No,” Aziraphale said firmly, “If you start up again then I’m going to have to as well and as you can see I’m quite busy at the moment. Besides, I thought we agreed that it was best to put it all behind us?”

Crowley flopped back into the chair. This new arrangement wasn’t working out as well for him as he hoped. It was like going to the amusement part all day every day for weeks on end. Fun at first, but then quite boring when no new attractions sprung up. The shiny appeal of retirement became tedious in its monotony. There had to be a way to make things more interesting around here.

A thought occurred to Crowley. He had agreed with Aziraphale that they should back off from influencing humans to one side or the other. The Anti-Christ had seemed in favor of that as well. But the agreement very specifically mentioned humans. It didn’t say anything about Angels. A plotting grin slowly formed on Crowley’s face. Aziraphale, deeply absorbed in his book, noticed nothing.

***

“What do you mean there aren’t any tables available?” Aziraphale said with a pout, “There’s always a table available.”

“Not today, Angel,” Crowley said with a shrug, “Can’t miraculously inconvenience humans anymore, ‘member?”

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale frowned, “I suppose then, we could go somewhere else?”

“It seems we have to. You might, you know, want to try reserving a table in future.”

Aziraphale’s frown deepened as they left the Ritz. Crowley glanced at the Angel out of the corner of his eye and smirked. _See what happens when you don’t let me mess about with things?_ Crowley thought with glee.

If he had hoped that ruining their ritual Friday night at the Ritz would be enough to change Aziraphale’s mind, Crowley might have been disappointed. As was, he had been perfectly prepared for this and simply moved from Plan A Step 1 to Plan A Step 2.

***

When Crowley sauntered into the bookshop the following week he found a shop even more disorganized and jumbled than normal.

“Angel?” He called out, looking around, “What have you done to your shop? Get out of hand with the dusting again?”

“Of course not,” Aziraphale said, coming out from the backroom and nearly stumbling over a pile of books. “I was looking for a book and it wasn’t where I left it last. It seems that _none_ of the books are where they should be. I do think that young Adam may have muddled it up a bit when he put things back together.”

“Ah,” Crowley said, “That’s rather inconvenient.”

“Quite.”

“Need help?”

“No, no. I have it, dear boy.”

Crowley nodded and sat in his usual chair, sprawling with legs over the armrest as he scrolled through the newsfeed on his mobile and watched the Angel become more and more frustrated with the state of his shop. Crowley almost snickered. It was a very near thing.

***

After months of this, Crowley found himself getting rather desperate. He had run through Plans A3-42 and still seemed no closer to accomplishing his goal. Aziraphale’s computer had crashed, wine had been turned to vinegar, and a particularly favorite donut of his had the filling swapped out with mayonnaise and _still_ the Angel muddled through. Aziraphale would sigh and fret, feathers ruffled and irritated, but his resolve on the matter did not bend. Whether he was simply oblivious or just determined not to lose, Crowley did not know. For sure, there had been certain irritations that Aziraphale _had_ to know were the demon’s doing. Still, he said nothing and carried on like good little Briton. It was infuriating, and Crowley found that his plan seemed to be causing him more grief that intended. It was time to dial it up a notch. Forget plans 43-98. He was skipping straight to plan 99, and to Hell with the consequences.

***

Crowley groaned and sat up in bed, glaring at his mobile. When the first text message ding came through, Crowley hadn’t even heard it. He simply rolled over when the string of texts began rolling in but it hadn’t stopped for the last 15 bloody minutes and he was done. He reached over and plucked it off the nightstand and glared at it, but the mobile continued dinging with each new message. He currently had 172. He opened it with a swipe of his thumb and frowned. It was Aziraphale, but he had absolutely no idea what the Angel was trying to say. It had been hard enough getting Aziraphale to agree to _having_ a mobile, getting him to actually use it properly had been an impossibility Crowley had long since given up on.

_Emojis are not hieroglyphics_ he typed _. I can’t read that shit._

He set the phone down on the nightstand and tried to lie back down. He enjoyed sleep, and unless the world was ending again he would rather not leave his bed so early in the morning. He sighed and curled up under his blanket. He could already feel the foggy tendrils of sleep touching his brain when the mobile dinged again. And again. And again. He snatched the phone with what was probably more force than necessary and typed a quick response.

_On my way._

***

Crowley grumbled as he walked into the bookshop. It was barely dawn for Someone’s sake. This had better be important.

“There you are!” Aziraphale yelled out.

“Er, yes,” Crowley answered, attempting to swagger confidently towards the Angel who was very clearly irate about something. “What’s goin’ on? You woke me up. I don’t understand those symbols you use; wish you could just text like a normal person.”

“Well I’m not normal, am I?” Aziraphale responded, momentarily forgetting his anger. “Besides, I think they’re quite interesting. I wonder if the humans are going a bit backward with the written word or if the Egyptians were ahead of their time.”

“Wonderful. I’m so glad that you woke me up for that,” Crowley bit off sarcastically, “If you’re done I think I’d like to get back to it though. Maybe sleep for a month.”

“Oh really?” Aziraphale’s voice had taken on a quality Crowley couldn’t quite place. It seemed almost…threatening? “Perhaps you’d like a nice cup of tea before bed then? I could get you one, from the cupboards.”

“Uh, s’alright,” Crowley mumbled. He carefully avoided Aziraphale’s eye. “I should probably go.”

“Do you know,” the Angel said, ignoring Crowley’s attempted retreat, “I wanted to have a cup of tea myself. I opened the cupboard and do you know what I found?”

“Tea cups?” Crowley asked weakly.

“Yes, tea cups. Tea cups with EYES,” Aziraphale glared at his best friend. “You’re lucky I didn’t discorporate from the shock of it! And when I finally got the damn things off I found them _everywhere_. On my computer, on the furniture, on the _books_. Crowley for Heaven’s sake, was that necessary?”

“Well, the agreement was to keep from messing with the humans, so….” Crowley shrugged. The game was over.

“So you… You thought you would just focus it all on me?” He asked incredulously.

“You mean you didn’t know this whole time?”

Aziraphale rubbed his face with both hands and sighed. “I think we may have to rethink that agreement.”

***

Aziraphale watched the young girl walk away, smiling happily to herself. He had enjoyed all of the extra reading time retirement had afforded him, but if he was completely honest with himself he did miss this as well. Not that he was going to tell Crowley that. The demon had a big enough ego after finally snaking his way out of their agreement. Well, altering it at least. Minor temptations and wiles were now permitted, with the understanding that Aziraphale had to balance things out with a few miracles here and there.

_A small price to pay_ , he thought _, for not having the entire bookshop covered in googly eyes._ Those were definitely a demonic invention.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I was honest to Go-Sa-Someone inspired to write this after my husband covered every damn thing he could in googly eyes one day. Shampoo bottles, mirrors, EVERY SINGLE THING IN OUR FRIDGE.
> 
> I really feel Aziraphale's pain here. 
> 
> As always, I thrive on kudos and especially comments.  
> Comments are my drug of choice. If you liked this or have any constructive criticism, please leave me a comment below!


End file.
